


She

by peachydrangea



Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:40:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21500953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachydrangea/pseuds/peachydrangea
Summary: She smells like lemongrass and sleep. She tastes like apple juice and peach.
Relationships: Ha Sooyoung | Yves/Kim Jiwoo | Chuu
Comments: 4
Kudos: 88





	She

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-upload.   
> Kudos and comments appreciated, thank you for reading! :-)  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/peachuuiip)

There’s a small exclusivity to the bustle, how their fingers gently intertwine with each other and skirt along edges so narrow and steep if they fall they’ll fall. The sun is in their eyes and the warmth of the grass heat up their thighs, stains on their knees and pollen in their hair and Oh God if this is how it feels to be so in love with something that you can’t handle. Jiwoo opens her mouth, purses the silence, echoing too loudly for the simple gesture. Glittering eyes follow the motion, the softness of the gaze becoming the antithesis to her emotions. Lips, red- tense, ready to speak, shut. Sooyoung turns her head back to the view of the city, undisturbed by the fleeting moment. 

They met in the library. Two years above her, a librarian assistant, Sooyoung was untouchable; surrounded by boys and men and girls and women and Jiwoo could only stand and watch from the Literature section as the grey clouds perfectly contrasted the yellow raincoat hanging from Sooyoung’s seat. And from the Literature section, she could see every smile, raise of an eyebrow, a roll of the eyes, a lingering touch. Fiery jealous of anyone who approached the girl who would sit at the librarian desk. Jiwoo would peer over the tops of musty old books that no longer held her interest, and admire. Not stare, because she would have to occasionally look away to check that the row she occupied was empty. 

Jiwoo’s selection of books were interesting, to say anything about them. Huge classical novels and larger studies on them, accompanied by the occasional tiny YA fiction or even a childrens’ audiobook. She would sheepishly approach Sooyoung, handing over her student card without eye contact, contact of any kind. It was an awkward limbo, whether or not to try to talk. Up close, Jiwoo could see the light frown lines on her forehead, the laughter lines behind her smile, how she would stick her tongue out just a bit in concentration when searching for ISBN numbers. 

She was beautiful.

Eventually, Sooyoung had to talk to her, and did so in jest, “Your reading habits are so varied, how do you keep it up?”

Jiwoo could only turn a shade of maroon, grab her books, and scarper. Sooyoung kicked herself a bitter one, annoyed that she had chased the girl away. Her gentle features and soft cardigans intrigued the librarian (in-training), the way that she would fumble with the doors that she had been using every day for a year now, how she would frequent the classics, the ancient masters of literature that no one Sooyoung knew could be bothered to touch. 

They pined after each other for six months, until the winter holidays.

By that time, they had built up a sort-of rapport, back and forward snippets of would-be conversations. They were fleeting, but they meant everything to the pair.

“So what are you doing tonight?” Sooyoung asked, showing the corner of a smile as Jiwoo brings up her books, more heavy literature, thousands of romantic words spilled across their narrative. 

“I’m going to the LGBT soc’s book club with my friend,” she whispered back, “they’re discussing Sappho.”

“Seriously? I run book club! It’s in my flat!”

And now they were here, a year later, after countless accidental brushes against each others skin, late night soft kisses where neither could see the blooming blushes across cheeks, candle-lit dates in Sooyoung’s living room where they would end up on the couch, knocking knees and noses to get to each other. 

Jiwoo had brought her to the park in the sky, a small playground hidden between the hills. They had held hands as they climbed, fear and excitement of being so high, so close to each other and so far away from everyone else. They ate flat peaches and drank apple and lavender, surrounded by daisies and bumblebees. 

She follows Sooyoung’s gaze, looking towards the city that held such promise for them both. The way the sunlight hits her, bringing out highlights in her hair and undertones in her skin, it makes her seem otherworldly. Jiwoo’s hand creeps closer through the grass towards the other, and it’s Sooyoung that grabs it. She plays with the younger’s fingers, thumbs running over soft skin with softer intent. They lie back onto the bed of flowers, Jiwoo under Sooyoung’s arm, hearing her heartbeat. She settles closer, their legs intertwining as they stare at each other. There’s no distractions, no one else looking, the only thing they can hear is the breeze and the buzzing. The swings occasionally creaked, unused for years. 

It’s like the nature surrounding them is filling in their comfortable silence, unworded conversations between them. Sooyoung can feel the material of Jiwoo’s skirt fluttering against her legs, can feel the way the other’s socks have little frills on them and her breath on her lips. Her eyes trail over Jiwoo’s features, her twinkling eyes, her little nose, the tiny freckles dotted along her cheeks, her cupid’s bow. Jiwoo does the same, admires the beauty across from her. It feels so right, and before she can stop herself from breaking the silence, she whispers, 

“Can I kiss you?”

It’s different this time, they both know that it is. It’s not in the darkness of Jiwoo’s room, nor the shadowy silk of candlelight in Sooyoung’s living room. It’s in the sunlight, it's outside, there’s no walls to keep them in and nowhere to hide. It’s so foreign, so different.

Sooyoung only nods, eyes closing slowly, and they move in against each other, pushing and pulling. It’s so incredibly moving, but so gentle, and Sooyoung shifts to encourage Jiwoo to move above her. They stay together until the sun begins to move over the hill, and the breeze picks up to a steady push. Their lips are swollen and tinged so pink, the same shade as their cheeks. Sooyoung pulls Jiwoo up from the grass, and dusts off her skirt for her. She holds her close, her head nestled comfortably in the curve of her neck. 

As Jiwoo nods off against her on the bus home, smelling like grass and peaches and sweetness, Sooyoung can only sit and watch their reflection in the bus window, and just how right they look together. She kisses the top of Jiwoo’s head and pulls an arm around her, whispering lyric into her ear. 

There’s a small exclusivity to the bustle, how their fingers gently intertwine with each other and skirt along edges so narrow and steep if they fall they’ll fall.


End file.
